


Lies in the Dust

by Oparu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bran's not sure what he sees in the old tower, but Ned and Catelyn soon realise who it was and what that means for the realm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies in the Dust

**Author's Note:**

> written for Redbells on got-exchange on livejournal for the prompt: Ned doesn't go to King's Landing and lives.

**Bran**

Bran stared at his parents, then looked at his feet. "I didn't see anything."

Mother shook her head and Father moved his hand so it sat on Mother's shoulder like a raven. 

"It's all right Bran," Father said, his voice soft. "Sometimes we all see things we don't mean to."

 _They knew._ His parents knew what he'd seen. Searching one face, then the other, he stopped when Mother smiled the same smile she'd had when they'd talked about why Rickon had been in her belly.

"You said you saw a knight," Father said, waiting. 

Bran nodded, his face burning. "He was with a lady, with golden hair. She had her head down and I- she- she sounded like the dogs when we're to stay out of the kennels. They both did and the man looked at me, the knight, but he didn't see me. I think. I'm sorry, Mother, I know I said I wouldn't climb and I was, but I--"

"Come here, Bran," Father said. When he dragged his feet across the floor to them, they hugged him tight, both of their hands on his back. "He wasn't hurting her. Sometimes men and women might sound like their hurting each other, but they're not."

"Was she a whore?"

"Brandon!" Mother said. "We can't accuse knights of being with whores."

"Was she? Why was she in Winterfell, you don't let--"

"Your mother and I don't let the whores in Winterfell," Father agreed. "This knight was part of the King's court and doesn't know our rules. Some castles allow whores within their walls. Some knights, no matter how bright their armour, like whores."

"Not you."

Father and Mother's heads turned in just enough for them to meet each other's eyes. Mother touched his cheek before they returned their eyes to Bran. 

"Not your father. But other men, I dare say most men, even knights, visit whores or have whores visit them," Mother said, keeping her hand on his arm. "When you're a man grown, that will be your decision to make, as it has been your father's."

"I won't lie to you, Bran. Most knights in armour seek the company of whores. Whores follow the wheelhouses and the men into battle and they visit men in the Red Keep just as they visit poorer men in the fields. They're people, Bran, just like any other. The Queen's brother is quite famous for his fondness of whores."

"That was him!"

Mother sat back, puzzled. "All the way up in the broken tower?"

"I can't picture Tyrion Lann-"

"It was Jamie. The Queen's other brother. The Kingslayer."

Now Father's eyebrows narrowed. "Jamie Lannister?"

"It was him, Father, and he had a whore in the castle."

"Your father and I will talk to him," Mother promised, hugging him again. "Thank you for telling us."

"I'm sorry I was climbing."

"You might fall, Bran," Father said, his face soft and calm. "Falling from the broken tower would kill you."

"I don't fall," he said. No one ever believed him, but he had yet to fall and he wouldn't. He just wouldn't. 

"Brandon, what are our words?"

"Winter is coming." He didn't know what winter had to do with climbing. He wouldn't climb in the winter.

"What do they mean?"

"That we have to prepare for winter."

"And?"

Bran tried to think. "That we have to be ready?"

"Ready for everything. Ready for winter, ready for the wildlings to get through the wall--"

"They won't!" Bran said, surprised. "They'd never get through the wall."

"The Lord of Harrenhal thought no one would ever get through his walls," Mother reminded him. "What happened to him?"

"Targaryens burned him with dragons." Bran still didn't know what this had to do with him climbing. He certainly wasn't going to be eaten by a dragon.

"We can't know what can happen. That's for the Gods and they don't speak to us."

Bran nodded. The Gods in the Sept and the those in the heart tree never spoke to him. 

"I know you climb well, and that you're careful, but you can't know what the castle will do beneath you, or if the birds will distract you, or--"

Bran stopped his father. "Or Targaryens will come across the sea again."

"Don't  climb the broken tower." 

That was much better than the no climbing promise Mother always wanted.  He could go up the inside or run along the roof nearby. He could promise that. 

Bran smiled at both of them. "I promise." He hugged them both again, then left. They spoke in soft voices as he left the room, and he turned back, watching his parents wrap their arms around each other. Jamie Lannister didn't have a wife, maybe that was why he brought the whore into Winterfell. If he'd had a wife, like father had mother, he wouldn't have been lonely.

* * *

**Ned**

He watched her by the window. Catelyn rarely sat with the shutters open, she preferred the warmth of the walls of Winterfell to the chill of the wind coming through the castle. Today she sat there, looking down over the wall and the ground far below. 

He wrapped his hands around her shoulders, moving the auburn waves of her hair aside. "He didn't fall, Cat."

"He could have." She shivered and reached up for his hand, holding it tight. "We could be building his pyre now, out there in the woods." 

"We're not." 

Catelyn turned to him and embraced him, holding him tight around the waist with her head pressed against his belly. "What are we going to do?"

"Jamie Lannister's hardly the first knight of the Kingsguard to soil his armour."

"In our house."

"The Lannisters are not known for their honour."

She was not as happy to accept that explanation. Catelyn's frustration sat heavy in her forehead. "I suppose that is why he declined to join you and Robert on the hunt. He had his own quarry here."

"Perhaps one of the kitchen staff was swayed by him. I can ask the stewards to make enquiries."

"We should let it be," Catelyn decided, heading for the bed. She removed her robe and crawled beneath the pile of furs. Ned followed her, pulling her close when he climbed in beside her. Her body curled into his, pressing against him for warmth and comfort. "It's not our concern how Jamie Lannister wishes to behave. Though I will admit I had thought better of him."

"When did you see him last?"

"I don't think I've spoken to him personally since I was a girl. My father contemplated him as a match for Lysa or I, but he never had a chance to offer much of a bargain. Tywin Lannister wasn't too fond of marrying off his prised son to a girl from the Riverlands."

He kissed her head, settling into the bed as the fire crackled over stones before them. "No wonder your father was so happy to treat with mine. After the lion, the direwolf must have seemed kindly." 

"Your father was fair. He had the same furrow in his forehead that you do," she teased, sitting up and tapping the lines on his face. "He came to ask me about my betrothal himself, to make sure I was suitable for his son. He promised Winterfell would not be easy, but that it would use my strength. Brandon used to joke that your father was as old as the castle walls and just as craggy."

He never knew what to tell her of his childhood. His stories seem so dark compared to the tales of sun she can tell from the Riverlands. Ned had wondered, years ago, when it seemed he would never be able to earn her love after he'd dishonoured her with Jon, if Cat had wanted a husband more like her. He remembered berating himself, because Catelyn would have been happier being the lady of Casterly Rock or some other great Southern Realm. He must have wondered too long because she kissed him, startling his thoughts away from the past.

"Stop writing tales in your thick head that would not have been true." She rested her weight on his chest, reminding him that as beautiful as she was, she was solid as well. "Have I given you reason to doubt that I am content as your wife?"

"No."

"Then you ought not doubt it." Cat shook her head as she climbed astride him. "Jamie Lannister would have suited me as husband as well as his golden sister would have suited you as wife. Heads would have rolled."

He sank his fingers into her thick hair, letting it flow over his hands. He kept his tongue but Cat saw his thoughts in his eyes. 

"He brought a whore into our home. That rankles you still."

"A knight of the Kingsguard--"

"Few men in Westeros hold to their honour as you do, my love." She stopped there, holding her thoughts of the men in the capital and their stained honour, even thoughts of the King neither of them recognised. He'd given his oath to go South and he knew he was heading into the lion's territory more than the stag's. He put that from his mind, setting it aside like his armour to make love to his wife. 

Catelyn teased him more than she usually did, letting her hair fall across his thighs as she pulled his manhood into the heat of her mouth. He spent himself within her, holding her close while he finished her with his hands. Her gasp into his neck was sweeter than all the wine in the South. Catelyn curled close to him and he tried not to let thoughts of leaving her in Winterfell fill his mind. He was no diplomat, nor did he read the thoughts of men the way his wife did. The North needed a firm hand, and he would have left them Cat's, but he needed her more.

Robb could find his one way with the banner men, show his strength as lord of the Greathouse without his mother by his side. Ned had become lord without ever seeing it as his responsibility. He could let his son rule.

He left Cat in the bed, fast asleep with the furs draped over her and went to the window. Staring out over the darkness leading to the North, he could not shake the chill that rolled down from the Wall. Ned loved the cold, but there was something greater than cold in the North.

Dare he even leave? Balon Greyjoy would eventually stir on the Iron Islands and something was stirring beyond the Wall. He'd seen that boy's eyes and the terror that lay behind them. Darkness was coming with the winter; he felt it in his bones. Catelyn would tell him to look for the signs but he put no stock in what the gods had to tell him that wasn't in his heart.

His heart was cold. Cold the way it had been when his father and brother had ridden South. South was no place for a Stark. Dared he turn the king down? Robert was as his brother, but this king was fat and brash. Had he also been so brazen with his women, so rude to his servants? What had been wildness when Robert was young sat on him ill. Ned had been able to hold him to ranks then, helped him win the war, but ruling was not warfare. It had taken him years to earn the respect of the North, ruling the rest of Westeros could not be approached with the same patience. He would have to step from his horse ready to play the Southron games. 

He could do that with her. On his own, he doubted, but with Cat by his side, he could handle it. 

When he turned, he found Cat sat up in bed, furs still piled around her naked body. 

"Are the Others coming down from the Wall?"

He laughed, joining her on the bed. "If they were I could stay."

"So you will ride south and be Robert's hand?"

"I have to."

Cat shook her head, sorrow creeping into her eyes. "You choose to, but that is what makes you the man you are."

"I need you with me."

"Ned--"

He took her hand and held it against his chest. "I know little of Southron manners or courtly ways. I am a blundering wolf surrounded by lions all waiting for my back to turn."

"Rickon would have to come with us."

"The girls and Rickon, maybe Bran, though he is young, he's wise."

"You can't ask him to rule alone. He's too young, Ned."

"Most of my bannermen have sons Robb's age. Let them come and learn to work with their lord. Howland Reed has a daughter and son he's wanted to send to Winterfell, with Maester Luwin and a good steward, Robb could learn much about the rule of his lands."

She studied his face for a long time before she nodded. "You'll be as bad as Rickon's direwolf in the capitol on your own. Sticking your nose everywhere until someone thwacks it."

He buried his nose in her breasts, making her laugh. Cat opened the furs and dragged him back under, promising him that there were a few places his nose did indeed belong.

* * *

**Catelyn**

She offered the queen the use of her bath. Catelyn's bath was the nicest in the castle and the queen was well accustomed to having the nicest of everything. Their conversation was brief, forcibly polite and the queen managed to remind Catelyn the North was a far wasteland several times, but they sparred with words instead of blades. Catelyn would have left her to the bath, but the queen spoke as her ladies undressed her, planning the lives of their children once they were married.

"Sansa will adapt quickly to southron ways of dress. Her wedding dress will be beautiful, Lady Stark. More ornate than even my own."

Catelyn looked politely away, lowering her eyes from the queen's naked body but she paused on her knees. Both were reddened, as if she'd fallen hard against stone. Cersei Lannister was too graceful to deign to fall. She curtsied low and left the steamy room. 

She circled the yard in thought, watching the blacksmith's shoe the horses.. She directed some farmers bringing in their harvests, making sure they were pleased with their take. Speaking to the servants, she made sure the steward was prepared for the smaller household Robb might run. It would be less predictable, more visiting Northern lords, but she was optimistic. The kitchen ran well at Winterfell, they always had. Robb would need a wife of his own soon to share the responsibilities of the castle. Maybe one of the Mormont girls, or Howland Reed's daughter. She would have to be practical: the North was no place for frivolity. Catelyn mused over all the eligible girls she could bring to mind until she found Ned, the queen's knees almost forgotten.

He hugged her from behind as they looked out over the yard from on high. His head on her shoulder and his body pressed against hers reminded her of the times they'd made love, him behind her. Once or twice her knees had been scuffed by the rugs on the floor. She'd even bruised them both once when they were a bit too enthusiastic in the bath. She stiffened in his arms.

The queen was golden-haired. She'd been in the castle with Jamie while the men were hunting. Bran hadn't seen her face, but he'd be able to identify her dress, Catelyn was sure of it. 

Did she want to ask him? It would be simple enough to get the queen's dress from the servants. If she had been with her brother-- Catelyn's stomach twisted, rising into her throat. 

Ned held her tighter. "Cat, are you all right?"

The king and Jamie Lannister were in the yard now, supervising Bran and Tommen as they pummelled each other through padding with wooden swords. Ser Jamie stood behind his king, hand lazily on his sword in his white armour. Catelyn knew she shouldn't look at him, shouldn't stare and she turned away, burying her traitorous face in Ned's chest. 

"It was the queen," she whispered to him, holding him as if the Other's themselves were bearing down on them. "She has the right hair, she was in the castle, and her knees Ned--"

He stroked her hair. "Cat, you speak treason."

"You can look now Cat, neither of them are in danger, I promise you," King Robert called up from the yard. He'd have wine again, because he was rarely without a cup. This was where Ned was headed, to protect a drunken, whoring King from his own knight and a queen who bedded her brother. How long would it be before the Kingslayer killed another king? Targaryens had wed brother to sister for generations; the smallfolk would not complain if the Lannister picked up the tradition. 

The gods spun the world around her and she clung tighter to Ned. They had to be alone.

"Tell them I'm ill and you're taking me to bed."

He obediently lifted her up, scooping her into his arms. He called down that he was taking her to bed, reassured the children that she was fine. 

"Have you put yet another wolf in her belly?" Robert yelled up, laughing at his own joke. 

Ned took her away, heading for the stairs to their bedroom. Catelyn stopped him, slipping free of his arms. 

"We need to see the tower, where Bran saw Ser Jamie."

"Now?"

"They thought they could hide there, so can we." She grasped his hand, holding it tight as she led him through Winterfell. The servants nodded their acknowledgement but no one spoke to them. The lord and lady went where they wished. 

At the top of the old tower, with the wind whistling past them, Catelyn dropped to the floor, searching. Ned stood over her, watching her scrape in the dirt.

"What are you looking for?"

"They were here, Ned. Right here." She held her hands over the scuffed marks where the queen's hands would have been. They were near the same height and the dirt over the stone had been shifted. The stone by her knees was even more obvious. The ancient grey was marked brown with blood. It was faint, but she knew what it was. "Come," she waved him over. With him behind her, kneeling, the marks matched. His knees behind hers, her hands on the floor. When she looked up, both of them had their eyes on the window. 

The window where Bran had been. 

"It's not evidence, Cat."

She curled against him, resting her head on his chest. The queen took her brother as a lover, and the queen had borne three children, all golden-haired, none black like her husband. It was no proof, and only the gods knew what had happened but she knew. It was in the queen's eyes when she looked at her husband: that hateful superiority. 

"The Lannisters--"

"Can't be trusted. We know this." 

"The heir to the throne Ned." She shivered. "It'll be chaos, rebellion. Stannis could be the rightful heir but Twyin would never let him take the Iron Throne from his grandson."

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. She read the concern on his face. Everyone had heard the tales of the Blackfyre's rising against the Iron Throne. The realm had only just recovered from Robert's Rebellion and the Greyjoy's rising against the North. Winter was nearly upon them and their larders were less than full. They'd had the long summer and so much of the realm had wasted it. Winterfell would survive, but the south where food was plentiful? Could they afford to fall to rebellion when the snows came?

"What do we do when our prince cannot be our king?" They'd promised Sansa to a bastard born of incest and Cat knew Ned shared her thought. 

"We have nothing to accuse them with. Some dirt in out of place and a boy who saw what he shouldn't have seen." 

Catelyn nodded. "If we accuse the queen, we make enemies of Robert. No man cares to hear that his wife's been in the bed of another man."

"We can stay here and risk the kingdom falling to a Lannister bastard when Robert dies or we ride south and be in the thick of it when everything drags us all down into the Seven Hells."

"The Old Gods don't have a hell," she reminded him, smiling. 

"Your gods, your rules," he said. 

Catelyn ran her fingers across his beard, chasing the grey hairs within. "So, do we want to save the North or try to save the whole cursed kingdom?"

Ned leaned forward rested his head against hers. "If the Iron Throne fell to rebellion, the North could hold. The Greyjoys would find better plunder in the southern reaches and we could sit out the winter. If we made a deal with Walder Frey at the Neck we could sit out the Rebellion."

"Walder Frey cannot be trusted."

"I'm beginning to doubt there's many who can. Your sister blamed the Lannisters for Jon Arryn's death. How long before they kill the king?"

Where did they want to be when the king died? Standing on the ramparts of Winterfell in relative safety, or in King's Landing, fully in the pit.

He was the man she married to win a war. The man she loved; who would not abandon the rest of the kingdom even though she ached for him to let it go.

She took his hand and kissed the back of it. "We make our excuses to Robert, tell him I'm ill or the wildlings threaten too close to our borders. We could even tell him the truth and let him storm his way down to King's Landing with his wife's head on the top of the wheelhouse. We just need to make it through the winter. Keep ourselves alive, our people alive, then--" she smiled suddenly. "Then we'll save them all. We'll ride south with the melt after the murderers and liars have played their games." 

"You'd have us stay here, away from the king?"

"The king has built his own prison."

He stared into her eyes, as if finding something he hadn't seen before. "You sound like a Stark."

She laughed because there was nothing else to do. They were going against their king, letting the kingdom fall to ruin and waiting for spring.

Gods be with them all. With Ned at her side, she could almost feel them there.


End file.
